Into His Arms
by tprillahfiction
Summary: Last words of a fallen comrade. Warning: Major character death. HANKIE ALERT extreme hurt/comfort. Very mild slash.


"Into His Arms"

Author: T'Prillah. (previously published under a different name for Spiced Peaches XIV)

Series: TOS

Rating: PG

Pairing: S/Mc

Warning: Character Death. HANKIE ALERT sad!

Beta: Ellen (Thank you!)

Archive: Spiced Peaches XIV, Spock/McCoy haven, this site, any site of Tempest's and my site. All others PLEASE ask.

Feedback: Yes please! I'm always curious to see what people think of my stories.

Author's Note: Written in First Person, McCoy's POV.

Disclaimer: STAR TREK is owned by Paramount, CBS, Viacom, (probably) the estate of Gene Roddenberry. I make absolutely no money from this. Nor will I.

Acknowledgements: Tempest Coyote and Kris Smith.

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INTO HIS ARMS

I don't remember how it happened.

In fact I barely can remember anything at all.

I slowly come to; sprawled on my back. I feel the warmth of a sun on my face. My legs are crumpled underneath me at an unnatural angle. I am alone.

I hear footsteps. I sense a presence. Above me. Kneeling down at my side. Somebody is touching me. Feeling my pulse. Straightening out my legs. Grabbing onto my hands. I can't open my eyes.

Wind rushes into my eardrum. Over that horrendous noise, a muffled call out to me: "Can you hear me?"

I feel a hand on my shoulders. Warm fingers on my face. I struggle to open my eyes. They don't want to cooperate. I see nothing.

Then...slowly...it's fuzzy...I make out the face staring at me. Barely visible. It is Inches away from my own. I panic for an instant. I can't move my head. In fact, I can't move anything at all.

I try to answer back. "What..." I croak. I am stopped. A warm hand closes over my mouth.

"Do not try to speak."

Pain suddenly kicks in, sevenfold. I curse the fact that I am conscious. I stifle down a scream. Then I actually do scream. The warm hands are on mine. Comforting me. That's better. I hear gunshots in the distance...We've gotta get out of here...help me up!

"I cannot move you. You are seriously injured," the voice says.

My arms finally cooperate. The doctor instinct kicks in. I free a hand from the grasp and feel down my body. Moving to my chest. I feel something wet. I bring my hand back up to my eyes. Bright red blood. Oh oh.

I look pleadingly into the eyes. What happened?

"You were shot with a rifle," says the voice. Matter-of-factly. "You fell off a cliff." That voice. It's Spock...right? I think so. That's his name. Right? Of course that's right. What's the matter with me?

I want to speak. I want to ask him more questions. What are we doing here? Who shot me? Where's the captain? I can't remember. Why can't I move my legs? Probably because you broke them. Or your back. Or maybe your neck. Stupid. ohh. "My...?"

He understands. "Your medi-kit was lost. I was unable to retrieve it."

The warm hand tries to push down on my chest. I guess in an attempt to stop the bleeding. No don't... it hurts too much. I scream again.

Oh God. I'm hurt bad. Spock? Spock? SPOCK?

Fingers touch my temples. It is out of my hands. The pain is now gone. The fear is gone. It's not that bad.

Another set of footsteps comes crashing up to me. Someone kneels down at my side. Heavy breathing. A different, cooler hand on my shoulder. "Bones?" Oh, there he is.

"Jim..."

"You've got to hang on till we can get you back to the ship. Just hang on!"

Okay, Jim. Calm down will ya? The hands leave my shoulder. The warm fingers leave my face; leave my hands. Spock? Where'd you go? Jim?

I hear a muffled conversation. I try, but I can't make out the words. Is it about me? Are they talking about me? Of course they are. Hey I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I'm a tough old bird. M'Benga will have me patched up as soon as we get back up to the ship. I'm fine. I could get up and walk out of here.

If only I could move my legs.

I hear the words: "beam up". I know what that is. Why was it taking so long? Now I remember... We took the shuttlecraft down here. Couldn't beam down today, due to an ongoing transporter malfunction. Scotty working day and night on the problem. Jim still wanted to explore the planet.

I was overjoyed we didn't have to use that damned thing for once.

That transporter 'll be the death of me one day.

Suddenly, I bolt upright. There's som'n I gotta do.

"Do not sit up." The voice, far away, now gets close again. Strange warm hands push me down. Why are they so warm?

"You have to help me," I say. I glance furtively around me. "I'm looking for something. You have to help me find it."

"What are you looking for?"

"A butterfly...a great big monarch butterfly! I need it for my science project. Help me find one. I saw one in the woods," I insist. Why don't they want to help me?

There is silence from both of them. Then I feel the cooler hands on me. "Do you know who you are?"

"Lenny," I say.

Silence.

Isn't that the right answer?

I hear a voice ask, "Why is he speaking so strangely?"

"He's regressed into his childhood," I hear the other say. "It happens to humans when they are critically injured." I feel the cooler hands shake me. "Bones!"

Oh..."Yes?"

"Come on. Tell me your name."

My name? Why is he asking me that? "I'm Doctor Leonard McCoy. What's the matter with you, Jim?"

"Do you understand what's happened to you?"

Yes. Even without a scanner, I know what's happened to me. I can feel the tearing inside. I can feel that it's becoming harder for me to breathe. I feel myself getting weaker. I know exactly what's wrong. I didn't go to medical school for nothin'. But...I can't feel anything from the waist down. And...I also know what's about to happen, soon. "Spock?"

"Yes?"

A memory, clear as day. I close my eyes to live it again. "I remember the first time we made love. Do you?"

"I remember." The warm hand tightens on mine.

"Wasn't it on a planet just like this one? While we were on leave?"

"It was."

"Happiest day of my life, Spock."

"Mine as well, Leonard."

I feel the cooler hand grip my shoulder. I feel drops on my face. I open my eyes again. Jim.

Those tears are for me. And Spock. I realize. They're for him too. "Jim...don't cry...okay? I'll be fine," I lie. "Back to work before you know it--" I cough. And cough. Spock wipes my mouth. I know without even looking at it... there's blood. "...Jim...don't you worry..." Red haze swallows up my vision. "...don't you worry... Jim." I cough. And cough. And cough. I can't catch my breath.

I feel the warm fingers on my temples once again. I try to shake them away. Don't...you...dare.." He knows better than to meld with a dying man. The hand obeys and simply rests on my forehead. "Hey...I love you... Spock."

"I love you, Leonard."

I smile.

I feel Spock envelop me. Holding me.

In his arms.

I feel calm.

I feel...

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FINIS


End file.
